


off / on / off

by saraheli



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraheli/pseuds/saraheli
Summary: He made you so nervous. He made your skin turn prickly red and the only solace was the laughter your friend Younghyun helped you make in his presence. Besides, Jae made jokes like this, too—he could take it, right? Wrong. Not from you.





	off / on / off

Having a crush on someone is one of the most brutally misrepresented concepts of the human existence. It is romanticised left and right by young-adult films and doodle-strewn novellas; it is littered with fluttering hearts and heated complexions and graceful stumblings over simple syllables, but none of those ever painted with any kind of strokes that you could identify with.

This was not to say you had never experienced a crush, obviously. It was more that your crushes were different, especially the most recent one that you painstakingly hoarded against Park Jaehyung. These feelings, in your own humble opinion, were the reason that affairs like these were called  _crushes_.

Each sight of him, each waft of his scent or glimpse of his silhouette, made your lungs fill with cement and threaten to keep closed as if they had sunk under the pressure of waves. He was some heavy force that you detested and resented with every fiber of your being, but, holy shit,  _you really liked him_. You thought of him often, and it drove you crazy.

“I don’t know why you let it get to you,” Younghyun stirred his milkshake lazily with the straw, “He’s just a person.”

Not really.

“I know that,” you sighed, “I think it’s just that me makes me powerless.”

“Hmm,” Younghyun filled his mouth with chocolate and swallowed it.

“I guess I just don’t know how to handle it.”

“Well, generally, I handle Jae by giving him shit.”

Younghyun, along with being your childhood best friend, had the distinct pleasure of working on theater productions with Jaehyung. They got along alright—really, well, actually. They were well on the way to becoming real-people friends, and Younghyun made sure you knew it. He teased you warmly, and, like any best friend should, made sure to get you two into the same room as often as humanly possible.

“I know, but that doesn’t really work for me,” you felt yourself make a sour face.

“You might have to give it another go,” he grinned, “Because I may or may not have invited him to join us tonight.”

“Here?”

“And at the festival, yeah.”

“Seriously?”

You gritted your teeth. The two of you had been planning this evening all week. It was supposed to be a night of unwinding and being stupid together, but Jae coming along would only mean more tension for you. Younghyun had to know that, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” he leaned back against the leather booth, “Seriously. And I think you’ll have a good time if you let yourself. None of that pretending-to-hate-him bull shit. That just alienates people and only works on TV.”

You rolled your eyes, “I do not do that.”

“Um, yes you do,” Younghyun pushed himself up on his hands, “He asked me once if you hated him. You guys have astro together, don’t you? I thought so. Anyway, he was telling me some shit that you said on Monday—like, dude, he thinks you have some vendetta against him.”

“What? Why?”

“You call him annoying like  _every day_.”

You did. But, as he had done before, Younghyun was always telling you to give him shit. He said it would ease the tension if you two could get on a joking level with one another, but it too frequently turned into some awkward miscommunication or uncomfortable eyebrow raises. It was only funny at any length when there was a third party, namely Younghyun, for you to bounce off of. He would make it clear that things were all in good fun, but you felt so nervous tonight and knew that it would be difficult in spite of Younghyun’s blinding smile.

“He is annoying every day,” you answered stubbornly, pushing fries around on your largely empty plate.

“Quit being hopeless,” he shook his head, “and, don’t look now, but he’s here.”

You looked.

His hair was dusty colored and messy and tastefully dancing mere centimeters from his curved brow. His lips curled into that familiar and syrupy smile that made your veins tighten in your neck. Jae slinked over to the two of you, and, skirting quickly through the moment of panic that ensued as he noticed who you were, he took a seat confidently beside Younghyun.

“Hey,” you said in a voice as warm as you could muster.

“Hey,” Jae nodded uneasily at you before looking to Younghyun, “Hey, Kang.”

“Hi, have you eaten? We haven’t been here long if you want to order something.”

“Yeah,” you chimed in, “The festival doesn’t even open for another hour, too.”

“Hmm,” Jae tweaked his eyebrows up at you. It was reminiscent of the way that you might at someone who had done something not quite odd enough to question or reprimand but strange nonetheless. You felt thirteen, suddenly. “Right, well, I was just planning on getting a drink or something. Then we can go.”

Younghyun flashed you a quick  _yikes_  expression, his eyes widening for barely a second before his features relaxed again to avoid suspicion. Your stomach started to hurt, and you couldn’t tell if it was a manifestation of your nerves or the consequence of eating such pure shit all afternoon. But it hardly mattered anyway because you felt sick and hot and your immediate defense was to curl in on yourself and unleash whatever rottenness had seeped into you onto what was supposed to be your fun night out with Younghyun.

Jae ordered himself a pop and briefly argued with you about who would be covering the tab. Much to your pleasure, he allowed you to pay and sank back into his seat with a subtle smile on his plump lips. You sighed to yourself.

He chatted with Younghyun about the upcoming theater production for the remainder of your time in the diner as he drank his cola, and you were simultaneously thankful for and irritated by your lack of involvement in the conversation. You would have felt more irritated if you had known what Jae was thinking.

He was watching your every move, trying to get some kind of read of how you felt about him. He had thought you were beautifully endearing and intimidating from the first time he had met you, and discouraged had hardly been how he felt when you had first started your uncertain banter with him. But, as time drew on and hope of whimsy and otherwise friendly interaction with you faltered, Jae wondered if his initial attraction to you had been out of poor judgment. Regardless of this thought, however, he just couldn’t seem to let you go, and each jab from you left him feeling worse and worse.

“So, what exactly is this?” Jae looked around in the cold evening as the three of you strolled into the park.

“It’s the Torch Festival,” Younghyun answered excitedly, clipping the two of you around the shoulders and drawing you to him as he spoke in a melodramatic tone, “A night of lights!” He cleared his throat, “And food and booze and music—”

“Yadda yadda, he gets the idea. He’s not stupid,” you laughed and playfully pushed your friend away. You tucked your hands into your pockets.

“No, I’m not,” Jae stuck his nose in the air, “I’m glad you’ve finally noticed.”

You curled a few strands of hair behind your ear and elected to ignore his comment despite Younghyun’s heated glare advising you otherwise from beside you.

After a few minutes of dawdling around, Younghyun declared that he was going to find you some snacks to “munch on while going through the maze of fire!” and so he left you alone with Jae at the entrance to the attraction with a little wink.

“Great, more food,” you chuckled, “I already kind of feel sick.”

_Great topic of conversation, bud, you’re really killing it tonight._

“Oh, are you okay?” He laughed a little, leaning towards you awkwardly with his eyes rounded in childlike innocence.

“Um, yeah, I just think I ate too much greasy food before,” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way his scent made your stomach flip. “I’ll be fine.”

“Let me know if you need to leave,” he leaned away again, nodding towards the main road, “I drove to the diner. I can take you home. If you’ll let me, that is.” He smirked, chuckling quietly to himself.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he turned to face you head-on, his broad shoulders widening further as you looked up at him, “That I’m perfectly aware that you dislike me, and I’d understand if you didn’t want to be here with me in a car for ten minutes, let alone right now when you’re supposed to be with your boyfriend.” He scoffed.

“My what? Younghyun?”

“Yeah, are you guys not..?”

“No! God, what would make you think that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “You’re together all the time, and you both seem to do the banter thing, but I have to be honest, it’s much more fun with him since he doesn’t hate me.”

“Okay, let’s address this now,” you raised your hands a little, your fingers flayed apart in frustration, “I don’t hate you, Jae.”

“You kind of treat me like you do, or, well, you have done until tonight. I was mildly terrified when Kang told me you would be here, too.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t Younghyun do the same thing? You said we both do ‘the banter thing’.”

“But he doesn’t nitpick at everything that I do—”

“I do not!”

Jae raised his eyebrows at you, “Yes, you do.”

“I’m sorry it felt like that,” you retreated, eyeing Younghyun as he wove through the crowd to get back in line, “I was trying to break the ice. Talk to you, you know?”

“Yeah, but…I don’t know, I guess I took it personally because I like you—”

“Gosh, that took forever!” Younghyun shoved a sweating paper cup into your hand with a victorious breath, “Sorry guys, is it almost our turn?”

You could hear your heart  _thump-thumping_  in your ears as your gaze stayed sewn on Jae’s face. You were sure you must have looked distraught because you kept hearing some low voice of concern asking if you were okay, but you couldn’t hear it all the way and you couldn’t control your mouth and you felt like you might throw up and so you did.

_God, that did not help your case._

“Holy shit,” Younghyun jumped backward and pushed Jae so that your bile landed on the gravel pathway.

Sweat beaded on your forehead and tears ran hot down your cheeks in streams of humiliated distress.

_Why? Why can’t I stop? Why the fuck is this happening now?_

You finally stopped, and, before you could even catch your breath, you choked out an apology and did the only thing that your panicked, adrenaline-powered body could; you ran. You ran out of the festival and towards the diner, desperate for somewhere less public. You could feel acid burning in your throat, mixing with the already painful concoction of tears and whatever else you were pushing down there.

_Fuck me._

This was not your night.

You stared at yourself in the cracked mirror of the diner. The flickering fluorescent bulbs lit up your face, reminding you how swollen and red and damp you had become over the course of the evening. Your hair was fraying away from your face in odd wispy strands.

Splashing water on your face helped the hotness behind your cheeks and eyes. Drinking it helped your stomach. Nothing helped the uneven curve of your breaths or the tremble of your pulse. You still wanted to shrivel up and blow away in the wind and stir yourself into the soil so that you would never have to see anything or anyone ever again.

_Knock knock._

“Someone’s in here!” You sniffed quietly and hastily wiped your nose on a paper towel.

The sound of Jae saying your name from outside the door freaked you out, to say the least. You gasped and looked at the ajar door with widened eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Shit,” you smeared your tears onto your jacket sleeve, “Um, not really.”

He came closer hesitantly and you could see a sliver of Younghyun’s pacing figure out in the diner as the door fell shut behind him.

“This must have been the most extra fucking night you’ve ever had and it’s not even ten o’clock,” you laughed stuffily, and he did, too.

“Um, yeah, you’re pretty damn dramatic if I do say so myself,” he leaned against the sink beside you, “But I’m sorry if I freaked you out before—I don’t think I’ve ever made a girl throw up by telling her that I liked her. On the upside, it  _was_  the ultimate drag on your part.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed again, covering your face with your hands, “No, that is  _not_  why I—fuck, I just keep fucking this up.”

“Sorry?”

“I like you, too,” you sighed, “I mean, jeez, that’s why I act like such a fucking freak around you.” You shifted nervously.

“Oh,” Jae lowered his eyebrows and reached up to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t take you for such a stereotype.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief, “Excuse me?”

“I just didn’t think you would be one to play out the whole ‘hard-to-get’ type of thing that all beautiful people in society seem to think they have to do,” he set a hand on his hip, “I know I always thought I did.”

“Fuck off,” you shook your head but allowed yourself to smile fondly as you looked away. He mirrored your expression as he watched you.

“Now that I’ve taught you how to properly joke with someone, do you want to go home or come back out with us? I think Younghyun is gonna piss himself if we leave him alone out there for much longer.”

You had to admire him for a second. Now that it was all out in the open, you didn’t feel that tightness in your chest or the burning below the surface of your skin. You breathed in his body heat and his cologne and whatever other parts of his life he carried with him on his clothes. You soaked in the mischief in his eyes and the flicker of his tongue between his teeth as he gathered his lips between them. You watched him watch you, too.

“The worst thing about this, I think,” Jae began, “is how badly I want to kiss you, but you just threw up, so I’m not sure that would be the best idea.”

He beamed when you shoved his shoulder, crimson creeping into your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Come on,” he held out his hand to you, “We have quite a bit of time to make up for, don’t we?”


End file.
